The Wandering Harlot (The Marie Series) (32 page)

XIII.

In the course of his aimless wanderings, Wilmar happened upon Hugo von Waldkron and his companion, and noticed that the abbot’s strained expression of late had been replaced by a smug grin. Though he couldn’t understand the men’s whispered conversation, the abbot’s gestures toward the tower were unmistakable. The journeyman’s concerns for Hedwig grew when he noticed the abbot surreptitiously handing over parchment rolls and a small bottle to his servant. With a smirk, Selmo watched his master leave on the boat, repeatedly checking under his robe to make sure the parchment roll was still there.

Before setting out, the abbot’s boat had to wait for a boat bound for Lindau to pass. Glancing at the second boat, Wilmar saw Melcher standing at the stern, staring at the city. Briefly wondering how Melcher had found enough money for the rather expensive trip, Wilmar noticed Selmo leaving, and he followed him without giving Melcher a second thought.

The servant looked up at the tower as he passed, and Wilmar was convinced that some vile deed would be carried out that day and that the victim would be Hedwig. There were few secrets in a city like Constance, and since it was common knowledge that Hugo von Waldkron had rented a house in a secluded part of Maurach, Wilmar drew the right conclusion.

In despair, he considered his options for freeing Hedwig from the clutches of the notorious abbot. If only he had the strength of the mythical Hercules, he could have torn down the tower and carried her away. But he was just a poor journeyman who’d lost his master, and he would be lucky if another cooper would even take him in after what had happened. Overwhelmed by both his and Hedwig’s misfortune, and blinded by tears, he staggered on through the city.

Arriving at the Scotch Gate, he bumped into a group of palatine foot soldiers. Wilmar stood there, breathing heavily. Snapping him back to the present, away from the question of whether to end his miserable existence at once or kill the abbot first, he stared at the departing soldiers and couldn’t help thinking of the dashing young captain who’d been his master’s guest. Perhaps Michel could help save Hedwig, but if he did, then her heart and gratitude would belong to him.

Struggling with his emotions, Wilmar finally lowered his head in shame for even considering his own feelings above the welfare of the girl he loved. If he wanted to continue living and hold his head high, he’d have to do everything possible to help Hedwig, even if it meant pasting a fake smile on his face and having to watch, brokenhearted, as she found her happiness with another man.

“Please, sir, can you tell me where I can find your captain, Michel?”

“Either at the beautiful harlot’s place on the Ziegelgraben or in Adler’s Tavern on Katzgasse.” Scratching his head, he mulled it over. “I think he was headed for the tavern.”

“Thank you, sir.” Bowing briefly, Wilmar ran as fast as he could to the Katzgasse. It was nearly noon, and the tavern was so full that people were standing outside having their soup and bread by the front door, mugs of wine set at their feet. Wilmar pushed his way through the packed crowd in the tavern and found the captain in a niche in a far corner, much to his relief. Shifting his feet restlessly, the journeyman cleared his throat. Since the captain still didn’t look up from his empty mug, Wilmar took a deep breath and tapped him on the shoulder.

Michel hadn’t noticed Wilmar until that moment, as he was deep in thought about Marie. She wouldn’t respond to his questions when he visited, and she stayed disappointingly silent and detached in bed. Michel couldn’t figure out whether he was more annoyed at Marie, or at himself for throwing good money out the window for a few disappointing minutes with her. So when Wilmar touched his shoulder, Michel flared with rage and instinctively reached for his sword.

“What do you want, boy?”

“I must speak with you urgently, Captain. Privately.” He sounded so serious and desperate that Michel reluctantly nodded.

“Did Mombert send you?”

“No, but it concerns my master and his daughter.” Wilmar turned around, searching for a place he and Michel could talk without a dozen curious people listening in. Understanding at once, Michel took his mug in one hand and Wilmar by the other, then led him to the foot of the stairs.

“We’ll go up to my old room. My brother has lodgers there, but they are away at the moment. I only hope for your sake that you have something important to tell me.”

Wilmar nodded excitedly, and once they got upstairs, he gave Michel a brief account of recent events.

The captain cursed. “They say Mombert Flühi killed the Steinzell nobleman? I can’t believe that.”

“Master Mombert certainly didn’t do it. He shouts a lot, but he’s never hurt anyone.”

“I believe you. Had he done it, Mombert wouldn’t have been so foolish as to call the governor while the corpse was still lying there with Mombert’s own knife stuck in his chest. Anyway, he’d never have been driven to attack Steinzell unless the nobleman had tried to violate Hedwig, and that wouldn’t have happened without a lot of noise and shouting.”

“I didn’t hear anything, even though I sleep in a room right next to the shop where every word can be heard from the hallway. But the murder must have taken place in the hallway, as both the front door and the door to the courtyard had been locked from the inside.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Eyes closed, Michel appeared to be concentrating.

Wilmar tried to remember everything that had happened that morning. “I think Philipp von Steinzell was murdered somewhere else and secretly brought into Master Mombert’s house.”

“Then someone in the house must have opened the door for the murderer and bolted the door again after he left. That’s not very likely.”

Wilmar snorted and suddenly looked up. “Melcher could have done it! He pointed to the body as calmly as if he’d seen it all before, and he was the one who called attention to Master Mombert’s knife. Perhaps he let the murderer into the house out of revenge, since the master had recently whipped him for loitering around town instead of working. It’s also suspicious that he’s recently had a lot of money, which he claimed friends had given him. Maybe someone paid him to spy on the master or the nobleman. Just now I was down at the harbor and saw Melcher getting on a ship sailing for Lindau, and I wondered where he got the money for that trip.”

“No judge in the world would accept that as proof. Perhaps he earned the money in town. If an apprentice wants get back at his master, he puts a mouse in his wife’s bread dough—he doesn’t help murder him. Unless . . .” Michel fell silent, staring through the little window out into the street. “Unless the act was carried out by someone who wanted to get rid of Steinzell and used Melcher as an accomplice. But who could be interested in killing an almost-unknown nobleman?”

Wilmar fidgeted nervously in his chair, eager to share his theory. “Abbot Hugo von Waldkron! He was chasing after Hedwig like the devil and viewed Squire Philipp as a rival. Now that he’s gotten rid of him and pinned the murder on Mombert, no one is there to stand in his way. He had Hedwig taken to the tower, and I’m worried that Hedwig might now meet with the same fate as her cousin Marie . . .”

Upon hearing Marie’s name, Michel interrupted. “What happened to Marie in the tower?”

Wilmar stared at him in surprise. “Didn’t Master Mombert tell you? Marie had accused three men of robbing her of her virginity in the tower the night she was arrested. The judge didn’t believe her and condemned her to additional whipping for slander.”

Michel felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “Marie was raped? I never knew that. Wait . . . Let me think.”

It’s no wonder that Marie doesn’t enjoy sleeping with me, Michel realized, suddenly filled with shame. What an idiot I’ve been.

“Who were the men?” he asked in a voice that shocked Wilmar.

“Hunold, the city bailiff; the wagon driver, Utz; and Linhard Merk, who now calls himself Brother Josephus and lives in the monastery of the Barefoot Friars.” he replied.

“My God, how Marie must have suffered!” Michel jumped up, pacing and gesticulating as if he wanted to catch and throttle her attackers at once.

Wilmar tugged at his sleeve. “This is not about Marie, Captain, but Hedwig. If we do nothing, she’ll also fall victim to these vile men, and what I’ve heard about Waldkron makes me fear the worst. Earlier tonight, he hopped on a boat to Meersburg, and I’m sure that from there, he’ll go to his house in Maurach. I’m convinced Selmo will take Hedwig out of the tower and bring her to him, where the abbot will use her and torture her. We must free her!”

Michel laughed bitterly. “How do you think we’ll do that? I don’t have the power to release Hedwig.”

Wilmar buried his face in his hands. “Then Hedwig will suffer the fate of her cousin. If she even survives what Waldkron will do to her, that is. She’s so tender and fragile . . .”

Seizing the boy by the shoulders, Michel pulled him up. “Stop moaning and take heart. Before a fellow like Abbot Hugo can get his hands on the girl, I swear he’ll have to get past my drawn sword.”

For a moment, Michel considered telling Marie about the matter. Perhaps she would be more inclined to accept him if she found out that he was going to help her cousin, but then he decided she’d more likely call him a braggart and slam the door in his face. No, first he would have to free Hedwig. A deed like that would earn her gratitude and finally bring the two of them closer. Once again, he asked Wilmar to describe what he had seen in Mombert’s house and then later in the harbor.

XIV.

Darkness descended over the city as Michel and Wilmar set out for the city tower. The city gates had been closed for hours, and it normally wouldn’t have been possible to smuggle a girl out of Constance, but because of the council, the watchmen let people pass through at any hour.

Michel still wondered if Wilmar had made up his accusations against the abbot out of pure jealousy, but he couldn’t reject the slight possibility that the young apprentice might be completely correct in his assumptions. In any case, it was unlikely that the abbot would have the girl abducted in broad daylight in front of dozens of witnesses, so Michel waited in the tavern with Wilmar until sundown, when the streets began to empty out. All of Michel’s doubts were dispelled, however, when he caught sight of a man in a white cowl walking briskly toward the tower. In a hushed voice, Wilman identified the man as Selmo.

Holding a hooded lantern so that the light fell only on the pavement ahead of him, the man was carrying a coat over his arm and heading directly for the tower entrance. He pounded on the door, and waited until the eye-level shutter was pushed aside.

“Who’s there?” someone asked in a gruff voice.

“Open the door in the name of the Council of Constance!” Selmo held Abbot Hugo’s document up to the shutter so that the watchman could see the seal, and was happy soon afterward to hear the bolt being pushed back. The door opened a crack, and he slipped inside. “I am here to fetch the prisoner Hedwig Flühi,” he declared in a harsh tone.

Confused, the guard passed his hand over his bare head. “So late at night?”

Selmo replied in a haughty tone, attempting to intimidate the man. “These are my orders.”

“Very well, then. I’ll go get her.” The watchman shuffled away, returning shortly with Hedwig. The girl’s face was swollen and tear-stained, but there was a look of hope in her eyes.

“Am I being released?” she asked Selmo.

Selmo gave her the same beneficent smile he had learned from his master. “That will be decided when we get to where I’m taking you.”

Taking that as confirmation, she suddenly seemed ashamed of having thought first of herself, and she quickly asked what would happen to her parents.

“That’s entirely up to you. If you are sensible and behave, and do what you are told, your mother will be released soon and your father treated mercifully. You can help convince the judge of your father’s innocence.”

Hedwig folded her hands, promising to be obedient and do everything she could to help her parents. Suppressing a grin of satisfaction, Selmo tried to maintain his suave demeanor. His master would be happy, because now he’d acquire a willing lover. But since women were unpredictable and he didn’t want to take any chances, he filled a cup from the guard’s table with the bottle of poppy juice and handed it to her.

“Drink this. It will be good for you.”

Hedwig stared in disgust at the filthy cup. “What is it?”

“Medicine. It will keep you from getting sick from the tower’s filth. If you drink it, I’ll see to it that your father and mother also get some.”

Nodding vigorously, Hedwig emptied the cup even though the bitter liquid made her shudder. Selmo put the empty bottle back in his pocket and placed the other cloak around Hedwig’s shoulders.

“Let us out,” he ordered.

The guard grumbled, but he took the key, shuffled to the door, and opened it.

As Selmo pushed Hedwig out into the street, he heard the gate closing again behind him and chuckled. The bailiff wouldn’t realize until the next morning that he’d handed over the prisoner without keeping a copy of the command to show his superiors.

Draping his arm around Hedwig’s shoulders, Selmo pulled her toward him as if trying to keep her from stumbling on the holes in the pavement. Through the cloak’s heavy material, he could feel her trembling, and he had to suppress his lustful desires. Hearing a noise, he jumped, but before he could turn around, something hit him on the head, and he fell unconscious to the ground.

Unlike Selmo, Hedwig had seen an arm and a sword appearing out of the darkness and watched as the sword’s pommel struck her escort. At the same time, someone seized her from behind, stifling her cries.

“Please be quiet, Hedwig. Captain Michel and I have come to set you free.”

“Free? But why? I’m going to be released.” Hedwig tried to turn around to Wilmar, but then the ground started to buckle under her feet, and she fainted.

Catching her before she fell, Wilmar lifted her back onto her feet and searched for the captain, who had pulled Selmo into a dark alley by the tower and was searching him. Upon finding the parchment roll, he quickly glanced at the contents by the light of Selmo’s lantern and stuffed it into his jerkin with an angry snort.

Wilmar ran over to him, pointing with his chin at Hedwig lying in his arms. “She suddenly passed out and isn’t moving. I’m afraid her heart has stopped.”

Michel placed his hand on Hedwig’s throat and could feel her weak pulse. “Don’t worry, she’s alive. I think the fellow sedated her. Well then, we’ve done him a favor by taking the girl off his hands, as he would have had to drag her all by himself across the city.” His tone revealed his relief at their quick success. “Come, give me the girl and take the lantern. We have to carry her someplace safe before the fellow back there wakes up.”

Wilmar didn’t want to let go of Hedwig, but he could see that the strapping young captain was better able to carry her. Not until that moment, however, did it occur to him that he hadn’t given any thought about what to do once she was free, and he gasped. “We’ve got to hide her someplace where neither the abbot nor the bailiffs will find her.”

“I know a place where nobody will come looking for her. We’ll take Hedwig to a whore I know well. She’ll take her in and care for her.”

“To a whore?” Wilmar asked indignantly. He wanted to explain to Michel that a brothel wasn’t a suitable place for an innocent virgin like Hedwig, but he realized this wasn’t the right time to discuss the matter. Clenching his teeth, he hurried to keep up with the captain’s long strides while lighting their way. After a short time they turned into Ziegelgraben Lane, and Michel beckoned to him to stop at one of the small houses.

“Here it is. Go to Zolfinger monastery and throw the lantern in a ditch. Then come back.”

Wilmar watched as Michel knocked on the door; then he went quickly so that the captain wouldn’t be left alone too long with Hedwig.